


Oxygen

by Zighana



Series: Oscar's Girlfriend [2]
Category: On My Block (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Breathplay, Choking Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Kink, Latex Gloves, Light Bondage, Light Sadism, Lube, Orgasm Denial, Oscar is a freak, Sex Toys, Smoking, Squirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 18:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15978227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zighana/pseuds/Zighana
Summary: Oscar experiments with his girlfriend's choking fetish.





	Oxygen

His hand tightens around her neck. 

Her raspy gasps for air is music to his ears.

He applies pressure. Not enough to kill her, but enough to put her right on that edge of dying and living. Just as she's about to lose consciousness, he releases his grip. 

Her body falls slack against the restraints, coughing and sputtering, eyes watering and looking at him with a mix of fear and lust.

He exhales the blunt smoke in her face, making her gag even more. 

His hand reaches for her throat again, thumb stroking her trachea in circular motions.

"You good, babygirl?" He asks. He moves his hand to palm her cheek, staring into her tear-streaked face. She nuzzles against his hand.

"Yeah," she answers, nuzzling against his touch.

"Let's try something different." He says. 

"What do you have in mind?"

"Gain your breath first." He lands a chaste kiss on her forehead. 

He leaves her naked body to walk towards the top dresser. He pulls out the toy and eyes the plug.

He sits at the edge of the bed, dragging the prongs over her naked flesh, ignoring those old self-harm scars (he'll talk to her about it one of these days. He never felt it was an appropriate time.) on her legs that cause ripples when the plug's prongs glide over them. 

She sucks in a breath, her body eager for what's coming next. 

Oscar plucks a pair of latex gloves from the box, making sure she sees it. 

She's got a thing for men who wear these gloves.

He puts them on, one by one, before dragging the head of the toy over her exposed pussy.

He plugs in the toy and it buzzes to life, the loud noise making both of them jump. 

He turns the dial down. 

Popping the cap, he pours a generous amount of lube onto her naked flesh and smears it on her clit, knowing she hates the cold sensation. Her whines of discontent are replaced with a gasp of shock when he enters his two fingers inside, crooking and stroking her spot that makes her hips buck. Grabbing the vibrator, he presses it against her clit and smirks when her legs shake. Moving the toy over all her erogenous zones, he knows she's got his full attention. 

His soft and slow pumps become fast and hard, finger-fucking her to the point those wet noises almost overpower the noise of her toy. 

Her moans turn to wailing, her body about to give out from the pleasure.

"You better not fucking cum," he hisses in her face. Chucking the toy to the side, he clamps his free hand over her nose and mouth, adding pressure so she can't breathe.

She screams against his hand, trying to turn her head but he's too strong.

"Wouldn't scream when you don't got enough air," he chides. She takes the advice, whimpering through his hand as his other one is making a slippery mess of her pussy. He feels her orgasm coming and immediately retracts his fingers and swats her cheek.

"Don't you fucking cum." He barks. 

He removes his hand from her face. She gasps for air, rasping out " _please, please_ ", before he clamps his hand over her face again, finger fucking her once more. 

He does this for a span of six times, until she's sweaty and frustrated from her orgasms stolen from her by his calculated hands and sadistic nature. 

She's a mess; she's crying, now, banging her head against the pillow and screaming his name with a rage that makes him want to fuck her into the mattress. 

He lets her have her temper tantrum until she tires out, collapsing against the bed, a pool of sweat soaking the sheets. 

When she gains her breathing, he presses the vibrator against her engorged clit and turns up the speed.

"You want to cum?" He asks her mockingly, smiling at her suffering.

All she could do was sob.

"Got to ask Daddy to cum. Got to ask him very nicely."

"Please," She whispers.

He cups his ear.

"What was that? _No te puedo escuchar._ "

"Please, for the love of God please, please, PLEASE, let me cum, Daddy! Please, please, please!"

She's screaming out in tears, thrashing her head against the pillow. 

All he could do was laugh. 

Cupping the vibrator, he finger fucks her again with the vibrator pressed even harder against her clit.

"Cum. Cum, you fucking slut. What do you say to your generous Daddy for letting you cum?" 

Her breath hitches. She's close.

"Thank you, Daddy. Thank you-"

He clamps his hand over her face and applies so much pressure he knows it hurts. Her orgasm rips through her body, her eyes rolling in the back of her head and her body convulses like she's been electrocuted. Warmth floods his hand; he knows it's squirt. She screams through his hand even louder, and the convulsing stops. She sinks into the bed, still.

Removing his hands, he checks her breathing.

Stable. 

She's passed out.

He makes quick work removing her restraints, rolling her out of the wet spot on her bed to face the wall. He lays out a tray of water and crackers, picks up a book, and waits.

~~~~

Fifteen minutes later she comes to with a groan. 

Oscar tends to her immediately.

"Cleo," he starts.

"What happened?" she asks. 

"Passed out." He answers.

"How long?"

"Not too long."

Oscar hands her crackers and a bottled water. She crams the crackers in her mouth, washing it down with a few tentative gulps of water.

"I think...I think I should go." He rises from his chair and turns to leave, but she grabs his hand.

"Stay with me. Just for tonight." She says, her grip tightening. 

"A scene like that...I don't want to be left alone." 

"What happens?"

"We lie in bed together and cuddle."

"Can't."

"Why?"

"Wet spot."

If her skin tone allowed it, she'd be blushing.

"Couch it is."


End file.
